


Always Being There

by still_lycoris



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Community: hc_bingo, Control, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Police, reference to prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8323228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: After Charles gets arrested, Hank takes care of him. In more than one way ...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo prompt "arrest."

Hank pulled up in front of the police station and then paused to take some deep breaths before getting out of the car.

A police station. He’d never been inside a police station in his life. He was a good boy, he was well-behaved, he didn’t _do_ things that meant you had to go into police stations. 

Not that it was his fault he was entering one now. He was only picking someone up, after all. But somehow, it didn’t help. It didn’t help at all. He wasn’t supposed to _know_ people who went into police stations either.

He tried not to creep through the door. He felt sweaty and prickly and was half-afraid that he might transform just out of sheer nerves. He was sure that everybody was looking at him, even though logic dictated that nobody was that interested. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be in this kind of place.

“I’m here to pick up Charles Xavier.”

He practically whispered the words. The guy on the desk blinked at him and Hank swallowed, trying to wet his mouth before speaking again, forcing himself to be a little louder.

“I’m here to pick up Charles Xavier.”

The desk officer nodded his head. Was Hank imagining the look of disapproval or was it real? Was he just being ridiculously paranoid? This was just a nightmare, it really was.

Someone came and took him through into another room. Hank tried to look as though he wasn’t terrified of being around policemen. This was ridiculous, he’d worked for the CIA, he’d been around authority before, he’d held his own too. But he had a feeling that the policeman that was now approaching him was someone rather important and it made his stomach roll.

“Hank McCoy? He’s just through here. We’re not charging him, of course. I’m sure it’s all a mistake.”

The man was speaking in a way that Hank recognised as pointed but he had no idea what he was trying to say. He’d always hated it when people wouldn’t just say what they meant. Why did people have to _hint_ at things? He wanted to know what Charles was supposed to have done and why this policeman was being cagy about it. He wanted _facts_.

But he knew enough about people now to know that they got cross if you tried to get them to state what they didn’t want to state. So instead, he nodded, trying to look as though he’d definitely understood and said “Thank you, sir.” in a respectful voice. It was obviously the right thing to do, the policeman nodded and patted his shoulder, then left the room. A moment later, Charles was there and Hank couldn’t help sighing with relief. Charles was all in one piece, he didn’t look hurt or ruffled or like anybody had been cruel to him. He just looked tired and sad and had the haunted look in his eyes that Hank was all-too familiar with these days.

“Hank.”

“Come on, Charles. I’ll take you home.”

Charles didn’t look at him. His shoulders were slumped and Hank wondered if he was ashamed. He reached out to pat Charles’s shoulder and Charles started back from him, quite violently. Hank pulled his hand away, feeling embarrassed and confused. What was going on?

Charles didn’t talk as they walked to the car. He didn’t talk in the car either, just turning away when Hank asked him what had happened. Hank sat and thought of all the awful things that could have happened that could lead to Charles being detained by police until his hands were shaking slightly. He was glad to reach the safety of the mansion.

Charles tried to walk away from him the minute that they were inside. Hank supposed that he ought to have let him go but he couldn’t. 

“Charles, wait, please!”

Charles stopped walking but did not turn around. Slowly, Hank approached him, trying to make his voice sound calm.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it but you’re not the only person involved with this. Could you just give me an idea of what happened so I know what I need to do?”

“You don’t need to do anything. It’s fine, Hank.”

“But it’s not, is it? You were in a _police station_ , Charles! That’s not fine, that’s all wrong and they wouldn’t tell me what you did and you won’t tell me and I’m _scared_.”

“They caught me paying for sex.”

Charles spoke so blandly, so dully, as though it were quite normal to admit something like this. Hank stared at the back of his head, aware that he was blushing, trying to think of something to say, anything. 

“S-sex?”

“Yes.” Charles’s voice stayed bland, as though the conversation meant nothing. “They don’t like that, you know.”

“But ... but ... _why?_ ”

It was a ridiculous question and he blushed harder to have asked it but Charles didn’t seem to think it was any more ridiculous than anything else. He finally turned to look at Hank, his expression wretched.

“Because I’m _lonely_ , Hank! Because I wanted to remember what it was like to be with someone else, because I hate feeling nothing, I hate ... I just needed to feel something _good_ and so I went out to find someone and offer to suck his cock. Only I got caught. All right?”

“To ... to ... suck ...?”

Charles gave a small laugh that sounded as though there was no amusement in it.

“Yes, Hank. Yes, I was after a man. I happened to pick one in a dress though and so the police are politely pretending that I thought it a was a woman because apparently, I still donate a rather large amount to their funds.”

Hank was vaguely aware of that. He’d long taken control of Charles’s bills and bank account and so largely knew where most of it went. He just hadn’t thought about it for a while. Obviously, it had been the correct decision not to alter anything very much.

“Charles ... ”

“What? What can you possibly say, Hank? This is why I didn’t want to talk about it because what’s the point? What’s the fucking point?”

Charles was trying to sound like he didn’t care but Hank could see tears glimmering in his eyes. He could see the despair radiating off him, carved into every bit of his body. Despair that he’d almost got used to seeing in the past year.

One of the reasons that Hank liked science was because it gave him clarity. In a world that often seemed horribly muddled, you could make everything make sense just by doing some experiments. Sometimes they went wrong but sometimes, everything came together gloriously and the world made absolute, utter _sense_.

It normally never happened when you were in the real world. But right then, Hank could feel it, a sudden burst of absolute clarity and understanding. Everything had fallen into place and he knew what he was supposed to do.

He stepped forwards and caught hold of Charles, pulling him close. He felt Charles go stiff and still and his hands came up to push at Hank but before he could do more, Hank was kissing him.

Charles stood totally still for a moment and so Hank pulled back but only a little. Charles was crying now, shaking his head slightly.

“I don’t want, I don’t want your pity ... ”

“This isn’t pity,” Hank said. “It’s not pity, Charles. I take care of you. I’ve always taken care of you. I’m going to take care of you now.”

Charles stared at him, still crying a little. Hank leaned in and gently kissed his cheek, catching the tears on his lips as he did. The clarity was still there, keeping him steady. He felt Charles’s fingers curve against him, gripping his shirt, heard Charles give a soft, shaking sigh.

“Help me,” he whispered and Hank kissed him again, powerfully, almost fiercely. He could feel a little bit of his Beast side surging but for once, it didn’t matter. He knew that Charles wouldn’t mind, that right then, Charles wanted to be controlled and overpowered and _held_.

“Mine,” he said and Charles shivered against his and nodded his head slightly, hands still clutching at Hank’s shirt.

“Let me ... let me ...?” he breathed and Hank nodded. Charles sank onto his knees, fumbling with Hank’s flies and Hank closed his eyes, clarity briefly overpowered by sudden fear. What was he doing? He was mad, it was the only explanation ...

Then Charles’s mouth was engulfing him and he couldn’t think of anything except that, except the heat of it and Charles’s hands resting on his thighs and the sounds Charles was making, the eager, needy sounds like he’d never wanted to do anything else but this, this wonderful feeling and Charles, Charles knew what he was doing and it was so _good_.

“Yes,” he said and his voice was thick. “Like that Charles, just like that, any time you need ... ”

Charles moaned softly and his nails dug into Hank’s skin and Hank had to stop himself snarling. Beast was close, too close, he didn’t think it would be good to transform, not when he was in Charles’s mouth. He could control it, he could, he _could_ and there was something weirdly arousing about that, about trying to keep control of himself while Charles was on his knees before him, about being in control when everything always felt like it was slipping away.

He meshed his hand in Charles’s hair, held him tight, enjoyed it when Charles gave a groan. He squirmed under Hank’s grip but not trying to escape, trying to move closer, trying to get what he needed, what he was craving more than he could possibly explain. Hank couldn’t stop a moan of his own and it sounded more like an animal and no, he was in control, he _was_ and he wouldn’t let himself change, even though he was right on the edge, everything swirling and tipping and so, so near ...

He came in Charles’s mouth, holding tight to his human form as he did. The pleasure tore at him, weakening him but he was strong, he stayed strong and it felt ... _incredible._ He loosened his grip with some reluctance but Charles didn’t move away. He leaned his head on Hank’s hip, trembling and when Hank looked down at him, he saw that Charles had come in his pants.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Thank you, thank you, thank you ... ”

Hank stroked Charles’s hair, trying to get control of his thoughts as he did. The clarity was gone now, replaced with a mix of residual pleasure, sudden exhaustion and a touch of shocked panic at what he’d done, what he’d allowed to happen. This was mad, it was all mad, it shouldn’t have been ...

But it had felt so right.

Charles kissed his thigh and Hank bent down and scooped him up in his arms, letting him loll against his shoulder. Charles made a small sound and nuzzled at him in a sleepy sort of way. Hank hugged him close protectively.

Tomorrow would be difficult. Tomorrow, they would have to decide if things had changed and if they had, what had changed. Tomorrow, Hank would have to cope with things and he knew that he wasn’t going to be as easy as it felt like right now.

But that was all right. That was tomorrow. Right now, he was going to take Charles to bed and take care of him, just like he always did.

Just like he always would.


End file.
